


Five, Four, Three, Two, Gone

by TheWritingRaccoon158



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And a lot of porn, I haven't finished this but i have a plan, I've got two months of forced vacation in Ger so writing Fanfiction is all I do, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn with Feelings, a bad plan, a lot of feelings, but apparently i like to destroy the things I like, i guess, stranger danger, the Yaku/Lev is all lovey dovey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingRaccoon158/pseuds/TheWritingRaccoon158
Summary: “You want something to drink?”, Yaku asks, completely forgetting about his chosen prey for the moment, fetching the barkeeper with a mere nod. Hell, he’d probably financed that place for the last two years, so they at least should serve him quickly. “Whadda you want?”“I, uh”, Lev stutters, brushing his hand through his hair, “I just wanted to see you, a-and –““For a drink, dumbass”, Yaku says with a smirk, and Lev blushes deliciously.Yaku likes that blush very, very much.“I don’t know”, Lev says over the throbbing music, “the same as you, maybe?”Yaku nods, letting Lev off the hook, gesturing for the barkeeper to bring him two new drinks, emptying his own a moment later. The faint buzz of alcoholisation flows through his veins, and he feels light-headed, a bit too happy for his own taste. Yaku rarely never feels happy, at all – he’s always much too cautious whenever he’s feeling happy.…But with Lev around, currently pulling a face because of his bitter drink it’s hard to feel anything else.
Relationships: Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> The coronapocalypse is here, and when the aliens find our desolated planet I want them to remember me for the sinful porn I wrote.  
> (Just joking, but the begining of this summer's lecture period is delayed 'cause of Covid-19 and even the libraries're closed soooo I've got nothing to do except gaming and writing smut, so... hey, have some ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞₎₎=͟͟͞͞˳˚॰°ₒ৹๐  
> I don't know about the update schedule of my Yaku/Lev works - I'm writing them whenever I feel like it, so this is probably gonna get updated pretty infrequently.... sorry ｍ（．＿．）ｍ  
> I'll update the tags and warnings as soon as anything that needs a trigger warning happens.  
> Luv u all. 
> 
> |_・)

Most of the talk gets drowned out by the blaring music – it’s too much bass and too less melody, not especially Yaku’s taste, but the _Dandelion_ is his hunting ground for almost two years, and for most of the time he’s here for mere minutes before he’s scooting his prey for the night out onto the street. So, who’s he to complain? It’s not even like he wants to hear whatever the other one talks about so enthusiastically, anyways. Yaku is on the hunt for a good lay, and not a poem reading.

And that one, god forbid, seems like a _very_ good lay.

“Why don’t we take this to my apartment?”, Yaku asks, nearly shouts over the music, “or yours?” He let his fingertips glide over the other man’s tight-fitting jeans, making a safe bet out of a suggestion. The other man stops in his talking, looking like he couldn’t finish whatever thought he had, anyways. Yaku savors the other one’s glance – up to Yaku’s lips, then down to where the V-neck shirt reveals some of the delicate skin above his collarbone, then up again, avoiding looking Yaku in the eyes. The other man is nervous, daunted almost by Yaku’s offensive behavior, and Yaku gets a real kick out of that.

“Let’s go to mine!”, he replies, and Yaku nods, following the other one through the thick crowd of people dancing, talking and drinking. Yaku looks around again, checking whether there would be an even better option for tonight, but the one he’s following right now leaves nothing to be desired. Well, at least not _outside_ of the bed. 

Sure, one could think Yaku’s just outright stupid, following this stranger into his lair, the agenda for tonight blatantly obvious. He doesn’t even know shit about the other one – but, well, he never does. And up until today, he hasn’t woken up dead or missing a spleen, so, what the heck. He’s reckless to a fault, unwary and a slave to his urgings, and despite he _should_ know better, he trusts his luck and whatever gods were watching, that, after tonight, he would be able to go out hunting for his next victim next week, again, and then again and again and again. He doesn’t even think about why he does this – he’s long gone past racking his brain about his wicked state of mind. Some things you just _do_ , and that’s that. Permanently thinking about his utter carelessness and about the wrong ways his life had led him to doesn’t make those desires go away.

“Where’re you living?”, Yaku asks a bit too loud, his ears still ringing from the club’s music. The stranger leads him to the other side of the street, down the main road.

“Just a block from here”, the other one answers, and Yaku wonders whether he should ask for his name again – sure, it would be impolite to ask again as the man had told him his name before, but Yaku had forgotten it in an instant, too disinterested in exchanging formalities. Both know what this is about, so why act as if it would be more than just a drunk hookup? Speaking of this, much to his distaste, Yaku isn’t even tipsy.

Yaku’s mind wanders to somewhere far away when the other one returns to useless talking, and Yaku nods in all the right moments, feigning interest even though he couldn’t care less. He doesn’t want to be ignorant, or anything like that, but after countless walks and talks to someone’s apartment they never said anything new – it feels like the same talk, over and over, the same subjects in a different voice, and Yaku could recite them backwards by now. He sighs inwardly, wishes he would have drunk more beforehand.

* * *

The stranger draws Yaku into a probing kiss the moment the door falls close. It’s a bit too chaste for Yaku’s taste, but, night’s still young, and for their first kiss it’s not bad. 

“Where’s your bedroom?”, Yaku says with a faux-hushed voice, knowing that talking like this is a turn-on for almost every man he gets involved with. He’s very aware of his merits, and he’s using them as liberally as possible. Despite his poor height and his designated role in bed he savors the feeling of dominating others by mere _existing_ – being in the center of the other one’s longings is the real thing he gets off to, sometimes even more than by the act itself.

The man nudges him further into the room, and Yaku quickly peeks around to take a note of his surroundings, memorizing the apartment’s layout as much as he is able in the brevity of time. Most importantly, he takes note of the fact that the other one hasn’t locked the door. Good. The moment the other one tries something fishy, Yaku would be up and away – he may be reckless, but not stupid.

May it be his rather high expectations for tonight or the fact that this might be the hundredth time he finds himself in some stranger’s bed, Yaku grows a bit frustrated by the way the other one handles him like he’s made of glass. He’s nice, sure, and tender, but nothing one wants for a one-night stand. He’s in no way demanding, always asks for Yaku’s approval before doing absolutely _anything_ , and he fucks like a teenager – fast but shallow, and with way too much kissing. And not the good kind of kisses, the ones that hurt in a good way and leave bruises and marks and dental impressions. Yaku _loves_ to get bruises, he’s wearing them like tiny hidden trophies, for no one to see except himself. He relishes in them, as if they were living, vivid remembrances of his own vulnerability, his mortality. Seeing and feeling the pain, re-enacting those nights before his mind’s eye is the thing that gets him through the week.

The man pants above Yaku, thrusts into his lithe, well-trained body in a way that let Yaku feel even more empty. He wonders about his own capability of feeling pleasure as of lately. Maybe he just happened to bring the wrong guys home? They are always good-looking, nice, easy to talk to, and sometimes even quite a good fuck – but _something’s_ always missing, something Yaku cannot grasp. Maybe he’s just overthinking things. He sighs lowly when he comes, just a faint adumbration of an orgasm wailing through him. He flinches when the other one keeps tugging at his flacid dick while apparently coming himself, Yaku being oversensitive and a tad bit grossed out by the other one’s touches. He just wants to be alone all of a sudden. The man groans and spills inside the condom and rides out his orgasm that lefts Yaku unsatisfied and somehow strung-up. Yaku smiles nonetheless, acts like he’s truly contended and tired afterwards and manages to convince the other one of taking a quick shower so he could sneak out without a hassle. The moment the man closes the bathroom door Yaku searches for some handkerchiefs to roughly clean himself, puts on his clothes and shoes and sneaks out of the apartment quietly, hoping the stranger won't mind his overhasty departure much. Not that Yaku cares, anyways.

He lets out a heavy sigh when he walks down the staircase, already trying to forget tonight’s anticlimactic turn of events. The chilly night’s air makes his still sweaty skin below his too thin jacket shudder, and he pulls the cloth close, hunching his shoulders and quickening his walk. He’s coming by the club, the _Dandelion_ , still packed with people dancing and talking and drinking, and for a moment he wonders whether he should look out for another prey to quickly get over the recent disappointment, but he feels much too tired and much too done for tonight. He turns around a corner and almost yelps when he collides with something – _someone_ , apparently. He rubs his nose, cursing beyond his breath.

“Yaku-san?”

The sound of his own name spoken in a rather familiar voice makes him frown instantly. Has the man from before followed him? Who is this? He wants to walk away as fast as possible, ignoring whoever he ran into.

“Hey, it’s me, you remember?”

Yaku creases his eyebrows. Whatever ex-hookup that might be, for shit he would remember their name. This is definitely going to get awkward. Gazing upwards and into the stranger’s eyes makes his tensed facial features fall flat instantly. 

“Lev?”, Yaku chokes out in surprise, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The tall, fair-haired boy – _man_ , Yaku corrects himself – falls into a genuine smile, and Yaku tries to keep his cool. How many years had passed since they last saw each other?

“Part-time job”, Lev says, nodding to where a package of newspapers is town to his bicycle’s rack, “Doin’ a paper round. What’s Yaku-san doing at such an early hour?”

“It’s still late for me, I guess, not early”, Yaku says, and the sight of his former kouhai does something to his mind he hadn't quite anticipated. He who is more than often surrounded by strangers feels a bit like home with Lev standing there, talking and walking like no time has passed, at all. Suddenly Yaku feels alien to himself, still sticky with a stranger’s fluids on his body, not the slightest bit like the one he used to be in high school. “I was… goin’ out – the club there, _Dandelion_ , you know.” He’s babbling, and doesn’t know what to say first – what to tell Lev altogether. He coughs into his fist, looking down the road instead of into Lev’s wide-awake, green eyes. “You livin’ here now?”, he tries to divert Lev’s attention.

Lev nods. “Yes – well, not exactly here, but down the street. I moved in last spring, ‘cause I wanted to live closer by the campus.”

“What, you? A college student?” Yaku says without thinking and grins, and of course Lev scowls – he _always_ scowls like a five-year-old, even after all those years, and Yaku is amused by the way Lev hasn’t changed at all.

“Don’t be mean, Yaku-san”, Lev whines with a pout, “I’m not as dumb as you think, I just needed a few years to keep up with you and the others.”

“I never thought you’re dumb”, Yaku gives back, “you’re just lazy.” Yaku snickers quietly, thinking about the old days. It feels like another life, like a movie he had seen or like a book he had read. That his life had once been so carefree and full of school and volleyball and “what will I do with my future” seems almost unreal. Growing up sure changes people.

A heavy silence lingers between them a moment later, and Yaku harrumphs.

“Well, I’ll be off”, he says a bit too hastily, cringing immediately by his choice of words, but Lev doesn’t seem to mind. His much too obvious lightheartedness feels like a ray of light in the middle of the dark night, and Yaku curses himself for even thinking about the tall former ace like this. “I see you ‘round?”

“Yeah, sure”, Lev mutters, a bit absently. Yaku wants to stay and to walk away at the same time, wants to talk with Lev and catch up as well as vanishing in the darkness of the streets simultaneously. He was already past Lev when the taller one speaks up again.

“Yaku-san!”, he says a bit too loudly, “would you, uhm – go out for a coffee with me, some time?”

Yaku stays still and turns around again, slowly. Looking at Lev, who’s expectation and apprehension was written all over his face makes Yaku forget to answer for a moment.

“Sure”, he eventually says and watches Lev taking out his phone. “Do you still have my number? It hadn't changed since high school.”

“Of course!”, Lev says, and again, his obvious enjoyment makes Yaku smile inwardly. How can anyone be so utterly genuine and open with his feelings? It feels like Lev, in contrast to Yaku, hasn’t grown older at all.

“Good. Text me, okay?”, Yaku asks with a smile and turns around, prying his eyes away from the lanky not-teenager, smile growing even bigger every moment.


	2. Chapter 2

“So!”, Yaku huffs out, slumping down in one of the small café’s cozy chairs. “We’re here.”

“Yeah”, Lev answers, green eyes pensive, scanning Yaku – his hands, mostly, currently busy with sweetening his coffee with way too much sugar for Lev’s taste. Yaku may be a foul-mouthed, grown-up man who likes to talk big to cover up his small bodily height and lingering insecurities, but on the inside he’s a caring, warm-hearted kid with a much too sweet tooth. “We’re here.”

“You… want to tell me something?”, Yaku asks, frowning while taking a sip from his cup of coffee.

“I just wanted to talk, Yaku-san”, Lev answers in honest, but Yaku scoffs. Is it so unlikely for Yaku to believe he just wants to talk? “Catch up on the old times, you know.”

“Hadn't you for someone walkin’ down the memory lane”, Yaku murmurs, frown vanishing slowly. “So, well, let’s talk. What about?”

“Dunno”, Lev says with a smile, “I hadn't seen you around campus, what’s your mayor?”

“Literature”, Yaku says, his mind reminding him of next week’s schedule. “You?”

“Sports Science”, Lev says and glows, and Yaku guesses he must really like his mayor. “I’m pretty awesome when it comes to practical stuff, but I’m kinda lost in the theoretics…”

“I bet you’re doin’ fine”, Yaku remarks, taking another sip from his coffee. He wonders whether the waiter would bring him more sugar.

“What’s literature like? I always took Yaku-san for one being interested in sciences, not… well, literature stuff.”

“I’ve studied chemistry for one year”, Yaku says lowly, surprised by the other one’s sound rating, “But I wanted to do something completely different than before, so… yeah, literature.”

“And besides college?”, Lev asks with way too much curiosity in his voice, and Yaku feels like he’s being interrogated.

“Well, nothing special, I guess”, he says, trying to not look into Lev’s eyes, “I quit volleyball – playing, I mean, and… yeah, I study, nothing besides that…” He sighs, feeling flustered. “Lev, what the heck do you want from me?”

“As I said, I like to talk with Yaku-san, like back in high school.”

“Despite we never actually talked –“

“Yeah, you we’re always nagging at me for doing badly at receives.”

“Because you were bad”, Yaku states and smirks when Lev pulls a childish pout.

“Yaku-san’s still mean”, Lev says, but the pout falls flat when he watches Yaku smile – something he hadn't seen often. He likes it a lot, he admits. Yaku catches him staring and looks away, a faint blush creeping through his cheeks. He harrumphs, then talks again.

“So, you wanted to talk, then, let’s talk. What about?”

“Aren’t we already talking?”, Lev remarks and Yaku’s half a brain cell away from punching the bratty kid. Despite he’s not a kid any longer but a grown-ass man, even taller than back in high school. And he’s definitely more attractive, too. His face is still the same, despite the faint adumbration of facial hair as well as darker strands of hair here and there. Yaku heaves out a breath, shoving the thoughts about Lev’s attractiveness aside in favor of returning to light chatter about old times.

“You’re really bad at making conversation, Yaku-san”, Lev says without any implication of malice, as if he’s just stating what he sees, and this time Yaku pulls a pout. He’s rather good at other kinds of conversation, but for sure he doesn’t say that to Lev.

“Well, I’m kinda good – great – with other things, but apparently we’re not here for that, are we?” The question is out before he even realizes it, and his eyes widen when he hears the word echo between them. Lev looks a bit sheepish, mouth gaping open a tiny bit before he catches himself again. “I – I mean, I didn’t know …” Yaku doesn’t even know how to defuse that bomb again, but Lev preempts him.

“That club, Dandelion”, he asks, a bit too coyly for someone so unconcerned as him, “You’re there often?”

Yaku wonders what Lev is up to, but he guesses there’s no hiding in suggestion and implication, now that their talk got carried into another direction.

“Yeah, I am”, he says flatly, and apparently that’s everything Lev wants to hear.

“Cool, cool”, he mutters below his breath, and from now on he steers their talking away from any topic close to clubs and nightly endeavors and love life, and talks about the end of high school, his volleyball career, their common college and such. Everything’s light and innocuous, and when they give their goodbyes to each other Yaku’s even more irritated than before, his thoughts still lingering on the question of why had Lev even asked him about that club?

* * *

Weekdays came and went by, and once again Yaku sat in the middle of his favorite hunting ground, scanning the crown for tonight’s winner – hopefully someone not as bad as the one last week.

Yaku often caught himself thinking about Lev, who had texted him just the day after their coincidental meeting. Not that he thought about him that way, but – well, he _thought_ about him. About their high school year together, about their matches, shared court, meals and rooms during training camp. He thought about the way he… _thought_ about Lev for quite a while – about how he liked the way Lev’s tall figure got shaped by their red jersey, how well his muscles and tendons shifted beneath his skin when he spiked a ball or dived down to retrieve it. He thought about his skin, his face, his fair hair, sometimes silky, sometimes sweaty and stringy, but the strands all the time so, so nicely falling around his pretty face…

He just thought about him, period.

He widens his eyes and clenches them for a moment, physically parring that thinking about Lev from intruding his brain too much. Tonight, it’s all about pleasuring Yaku’s urges, not thinking about that _brat_.

He looks around, scans the room like he did before so many times, and his eyes fall onto a muscular guy with a nice-fitting button-up, standing around all dressed up and nowhere to go, with his half-emptied drink in his hand. Yaku’s about to make his way toward the guy when suddenly something – someone – limits his sight.

“Yaku-san!”, Lev’s cheery voice could be heard even through the thick music, and Yaku needs a moment to set his appearance into context. What is he doing here of all places?

“What’re you doin’ here?”, Yaku asks, grabbing clumsily for his drink to keep his hands busy.

“You mentioned that club, remember?”, Lev says, quickly peeking around, “last week, when we met.”

“You remembered that?”, Yaku asked, raising his eyebrow. He keeps himself from smirking when Lev looks a bit flustered.

“I – yeah, well, I –“

“You want something to drink?”, Yaku asks, completely forgetting about his chosen prey for the moment, ushering the barkeeper to them with a mere nod. Hell, he’d probably financed that place for the last two years, so they at least should serve him quickly. “Whadda you want?”

“I, uh”, Lev stutters, brushing his hand through his hair, “I just wanted to see you, a-and –“

“For a drink, dumbass”, Yaku says with a smirk, and Lev blushes deliciously.

Yaku likes that blush very, very much.

“I don’t know”, Lev says over the throbbing music, “the same as you, maybe?”

Yaku nods, letting Lev off the hook, gesturing for the barkeeper to bring him two new drinks, emptying his own a moment later. The faint buzz of alcoholisation flows through his veins, and he feels light-headed, a bit too happy for his own taste. Yaku rarely _never_ feels happy, at all – he’s always much too cautious whenever he’s feeling happy.

…But with Lev around, currently pulling a face because of his bitter drink it’s hard to feel anything else.

* * *

The night ends like Yaku knew it was supposed to end from the start. Not from the start of tonight, actually, but from the start of Lev’s entry into the Nekoma volleyball club. They are polar opposites, and despite Yaku should know better he ends up in Lev’s arms, drunk and _wanting_. Lev kisses him with fervor, like he’s made for him, like he waited for this to happen so long, like he’s been nothing but destined for them to end like this. Lev presses Yaku against the toilet room’s shabby door, kissing him, all tongue and teeth and unresolved tension for years. He wonders if Lev had thought about them, too, for a moment, until Lev rubs his length against Yaku, making every coherent thought puff out in thin air.

“What a cliché”, Yaku murmurs against Lev’s lips, smiling sillily, hands grabbing a handful of his whitish hair. Lev grunts in response, a sound coming from all the way down his lungs, and Yaku wonders whether he would have ever thought about Lev _being_ like this in a _situation_ like this. He always took him for being childish and somehow too tense for making out in a filthy bathroom behind a dingy club. But, Yaku would be insane to complain right now.

“Whaddaya mean?”, Lev slurs against Yaku’s neck, mixing feathery-light kisses and harsh, teeth-scraping marks like he’s not able to control his actions – or as if he doesn’t _want_ to control.

“Makin’ out like this”, Yaku says, mouthing a toneless suffrage against the ceiling when Lev rubs himself against Yaku, making him shiver all over. The rush of wild-running adrenaline in his body lets him see stars for a moment, and he gasps for air to not fall unconscious by the agitation. “Lev – I –“

Lev hums against Yaku’s skin, and the smaller one’s fingers twitch, fingernails shoving themselves into Lev’s fair skin. Because of their height difference Lev has to lean down a bit while Yaku tiptoes, and even more filthy thoughts crawl into Yaku’s brain when he takes note of that. For sure he hasn’t a size kink – no kinks at all for all intents and purposes, but it’s difficult to not take their heights into consideration by, well, _considering_ tonight’s possible outcome by considering sizes in general.

He’s considering way too much for his own taste, Yaku thinks, and concentrates all of his senses onto Lev for a moment.

“I live close by”, Yaku eventually utters, and Lev draws away, looking at his former senpai, pensively but not repulsing. Yaku takes note of the bright green eyes staring right into his petty soul.

“Yaku-san, I –“ Lev says, but Yaku shuts him off with another kiss, putting in all the suggestion and meaningfulness he’s able to bring up.

“Do you want to?”, Yaku asks afterwards, taxing Lev whose mouth is gaping open like he’d run a marathon.

“Yes”, Lev says eventually, finally, and Yaku grins dumbfoundedly, again surprised by Lev’s heedless compliance. Yaku grabs him by the wrists, shoves the door open with his foot and practically beelines through the masses, with Lev in tow. He can’t tell when he felt this jittery before.

Suddenly, his wild throbbing heart stops, rumples in his chest off-beat, and Lev runs into him when Yaku stops abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”, Lev says with a scowl, and Yaku turns around, suddenly looking too pensive for the situation to be okay.

“Kiss me, now”, the smaller one demands, and pulls Lev close, hands on his hips and waist. He still feels Lev frown when he kisses him again, ignoring curious glances from nearby. He slowly sways, like he’s dancing with Lev in his arms, and only lets go of him after a full minute of sharing hot, breathless kisses. He loves the feeling of Lev against him, his lips, his body, his heated skin and long-fingered hands, but Yaku curses inwardly, knowing his mind would be occupied with something else, something he wants to shut off instantly.

“Come”, he orders Lev who complies without asking, and shoves him out of the club, looking around like a secret agent in civil. Only when the club’s doors were out of sight and the music nearly gone Yaku relaxes, and knows he probably owns Lev an explanation.

“I – there’s this guy”, he says without hesitation, knowing Lev would understand, would care for whatever Yaku says. “I… went out with him a while ago, and he won't stop troubling me.” He refrains from telling Lev he’d actually slept with the creepy guy whose name is Haru - at least he thinks it is - , not remotely interested in destroying whatever mood was left between them. “He… let’s say he doesn’t know what boundaries are.”

Lev shows Yaku a much too uneasy look, and Yaku somehow feels like he’s not earing a look like this. No one should feel worried just because Yaku’s recklessness got him a creepy stalker.

“He’s following you?”

“Sometimes, yes. But he didn’t do anything.” ‘ _Up until now’_ Yaku thinks but doesn’t say aloud, because the hell he would Lev get involved with his shenanigans and unhealthy lifestyle. “Back there, I wanted to show him he’s got no chance.”

“Ah, so that’s what the kissing’s about”, Lev said with a heavy undertone, and Yaku needs a moment to understand what makes him worry now.

“Not all the kissing”, he says a bit too tenderly, cupping Lev’s cheek in his hand. “I saw him standing at the bar and staring at me, so, you know – just the kisses on the dancefloor.”

“Oh”, Lev says lowly, and Yaku feels as if he has to do something to bring his message home. He tiptoes again, draws Lev close and kisses him again, deep and passionate, grinding his lithe body against Lev in a way he would normally not do in the middle of the street, where absolutely anyone could see them. But Lev’s trust was worth it, though, oh so worth it.

“I still want you to come home with me”, Yaku says calmly, tenderly, and finally Lev smirks, green eyes glowing brightly. “But I understand if you won't come, too.”

“I want to, Yaku-san”, Lev says, eagerly, excitement visible even in the dim night, and he follows Yaku to his apartment like a dog with a wagging tail.

* * *

Lev stays the night, of course.

Yaku would have never thought about waking up besides Lev of all people, but he feels a bit to content to think about all his underlying worries right now. The night hadn't exactly played out as he’d wanted to, but he doesn’t care much. He thought about it, tried to re-imagine last night before it fades out of his memory like a hard-to-grasp dream.

When Yaku had opened the door to his apartment Lev was already nibbling at his neck, skin warm and reddened from the taller one’s ministrations. Yaku giggled like a schoolgirl, seeing each and every fiber of clear-minded constraint leaving Lev for a moment. Yaku shoves his shoes off absently, throws his jacket aside and nothing but tears the shirt off Lev. He savors the other one’s muscular chest for a moment, letting his palms glide against the warm, dry skin, for a moment forgetting what he was about to do afterwards. Suddenly he lost the ground under his feet and realizes Lev had lifted him up with ease, strong hands holding him like he had never done anything else.

“Where’s your bedroom?”, Lev asks unabashedly, and Yaku gestures to the side, bites his lip and stutters out a heavy breath, wonders why he feels self-consciousness crawling up his skin for a moment _. It’s just Lev_ , he chants in his head, _just Lev_ – tall, dumb, bratty Lev. But maybe because it was Lev, it’s not ‘just’, but ‘actually’, and Yaku somehow knows that those lingering feelings he harbored for such a long time are the reason for his reluctance. He realizes: he’s self-conscious – conscious about the situation at a whole because it means something, Lev means something to him, and _please god_ , this couldn’t just be a fling, just something for one night.

He shudders when Lev tosses him onto the bed, immediately leaning down and kissing Yaku again, tongue and teeth and just the tinge of hurt he likes so, so much. Lev might not really know what he’s doing, but it drives Yaku _insane_.

“Let me”, he chokes out, nervousness making his fingers shiver in anticipation, and Lev could only guess what Yaku’s up to, but doesn’t seem to object when Yaku unbuttons his jeans, shoving the cloth down in fervor. Lev staggers out of the garment, shuddering deliciously when Yaku brushes over his clothed length. Yaku, never the one for letting others lead, draws Lev down and spins them around so he’s sitting in Lev’s lap now, eyeing the taller one like a predator, tongue peeking out of his mouth like he’s about to solve a difficult math problem. Yaku takes it into his own hands to toss his shirt aside while Lev’s strong palms caress his waist, stroking the other one’s skin as if to save the feeling for another time. Yaku grinds against Lev, proclamation of what’s to come and leans down again to kiss him, to stroke his damn soft hair. He grinds against him once again, and again, and feels like he could come from dry humping alone, but it’s not enough, it would never be enough with Lev here, pliant and in awaiting himself. Yaku gives him a seductive, meaningful smirk before he crouches down, peppers Lev’s chest and belly with kisses, hand roaming around his heated skin. Lev heaves like he’s out of breath and props himself on his elbows to watch whatever Yaku is doing, and his mouth gapes open when Yaku flicks his tongue against his underwear, leaving a wet spot. A moment later Yaku helps him wiggle out of the redundant clothing, and then the smaller one stops in his ministrations, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re… soft?”, Yaku says unabashedly, and Lev cries out an embarrassed whimper, falling backwards into the sheets, hiding behind his hands.

“That’s – I can’t do – I”, he mumbles through his fingers, the skin of his face and neck blushing vividly. “I’m e-excited! Besides, it’s always like this when I drink.”

Yaku peeks down again, lets his gaze linger again onto Lev’s length which – despite it being soft – is of a remarkable size, nevertheless, and he gulps involuntarily. Maybe it’s for the better that this… thing isn’t going to work for tonight. Yaku feels a twinge in his guts by the mere thought of Lev pounding into him.

“Stop stariiiing”, Lev whines a moment later, and Yaku suppresses a chuckle.

“Hey, it’s okay”, he says with a comforting smile a moment later and leans upwards, spreads his whole bodily length above Lev, enjoying their closeness. “No pressure.”

“But I wanted to…”, Lev says and shows his bright red face, drawing his hands away slowly. “I’m sorry, Yaku-san.”

“I said it’s fine, dumbass”, Yaku says again, scolding himself for scolding Lev despite trying to comfort him. He’s not even lying; fucking is all very well, but still, it’s Lev whom he’s with, and he’s content with everything that happens, even without actual sex. Besides, he’s not a hundred percent into it after the encounter with his stalker, anyways. He’s thinking too much about the weirdo to give Lev his full attention, and for sure he wants to do that, for both their sake. He wants a night with Lev to be special, and not to not get sidetracked by _him_ again. The stalker had had already caused him too many sleepless nights, he doesn’t want to give him that very important night, too.

“But, I could”, Lev said lowly, red skin slowly decolorizing, “t-to you, I mean – if you want.”

Up until now Yaku hadn't quite realized how prominently hard he was, cock pleasurably caught between their bodies. Just a faint hump from Lev against Yaku’s hip is enough to remember him of it, and Lev sees that, feels it when Yaku’s length twitched against Lev’s lower abdomen.

“Only if you want –“, Yaku begins, but Lev scowls in lack of understanding, as if the thought about not wanting to get Yaku off was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Lev shoves Yaku off his body and the smaller one already misses the warmth and the pleasant familiarity of Lev’s skin when Lev thumbs over Yaku’s length, probingly wrapping his hand around it while shuffling his body up in a sitting position. Yaku sits in front of him, legs open and sprawled around Lev’s, and just watches him like it’s the best movie he’d ever seen. Lev doesn’t even remotely seem like a beginner when he strokes Yaku, slowly, tenaciously slowly, like he’s trying to find out which spots feel good for Yaku and which not. Yaku contains a moan when Lev’s thumb slides over the slit, precum threading deliciously. Yaku’s mouth gapes open and he pants unabashedly, moaning ever so often while Lev pumps his length, keeping Yaku steady by pushing the digits of his other hands into his well-toned thigh.

“Lev, I’m – I-“ Yaku stutters incoherently, but Lev seems to get the implication when he suddenly dips down his head, kisses Yaku’s dick, making Yaku groan out a gurgling sound, much too his own surprise, too. Like hell he’d ever thought about Lev being someone all in for blowjobs. But, much to Yaku’s pleasing, Lev is fucking good in almost everything he does, and Yaku comes with a shudder when Lev hums around his cock while pressing his tongue flat against it, sucking on it in a fashion that makes Yaku black out for a moment.

When he comes down from his high he realizes he fell backwards against his sheets, legs still sprawled left and right next to Lev, boneless like a puppet but content like a fed puppy. He wants to say something to Lev, wants to praise him or at the least pat his head, but he feels like every leftover muscle cell has been sucked out of his body. Shit, when did he ever feel so fucking calm during the last year? He almost ponders about snoring off without talking again when his conscious remembered him of the boy – man – sitting between his legs, in anticipation of at least _something_.

“Fuuuuuck”, Yaku groans in loss for other words, brushing his hands through his face vividly. He gestures for Lev to lay beside him, and the taller one ushers around until Yaku is laying in the crook of his arm, naked and content like hardly never.

“You’re okay?”, Yaku asks then, “I mean, with, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m great”, Lev says, kissing Yaku’s hair, brushing his hands over his belly. “Really great.”

“I’m goin’ to return that favor”, Yaku says, and the implication of repeating tonight’s events makes him smile sillily. “Some other day, if you let me.”

“I’d like that, Yaku-san”, Lev says, snuggling even closer towards Yaku, and not soon before long they both fell into a deep, placid slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commeeeeeeent if you like, I craaaave for ittt （〃＾∇＾）ﾉ♪


End file.
